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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27718367">Fresh Starts and Bookmarks</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/celastris/pseuds/celastris'>celastris</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>RGU Future AU [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shoujo Kakumei Utena | Revolutionary Girl Utena</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/F, Fluff, Mentions of Sexual Harassment, Slice of Life, a touch of violence, anthy is a book freak, im telling u the sheer amount of books this woman reads is balls 2 the wall, kind of anthy centric, multiple chapters and everything so buckle in, ok this is gonna be like. a real story, swearing is also present yes, tw will be posted at the start of each chapter if need be!, utena is the worlds most supportive gf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:16:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,156</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27718367</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/celastris/pseuds/celastris</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Anthy Himemiya was damaged. Utena Tenjou was hurt. The two do everything they can to pick up the pieces, to start fresh-- and above all, to do it together.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Himemiya Anthy/Tenjou Utena</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>RGU Future AU [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2225166</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Bookmarks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is gonna be like a real multi chapter fic so STRAP IN,, i have so many plans dont even get me STARTED-- i really hope you enjoy it though! i edit all my own stuff, so if theres mistakes hopefully ill catch them and edit them lol</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sky was nearly clear, with the sun slightly obscured by the clouds but still there nonetheless. The breeze was soft, just strong enough to be pleasant but not yet bringing with it the harsh bite of winter. This was Anthy’s favorite type of weather, and she mused on this as she walked down the city block. Clear sunny days were never her thing, they were too perfect—so much so that she found them unsettling. However, days like these, days that floated in the in between with their with whispers of wind and imperfections in the clouds were her favorite. </p><p>She was startled out of her daze by a horn, realizing she had almost stepped into the intersection’s crosswalk on a red light. This snapped her back to reality, and she composed herself before crossing the street as she saw the little green man blinking on the sign a few seconds later. She was on her way to a class at her university, which was always a bit of a walk, but catching a taxi or trying to maneuver the subway system was much more of a hassle. Utena always worried about her walking that far every day, but Anthy insisted that she preferred to. She wasn’t certain that she did, but she didn’t want to cause Utena any inconvenience, and thus she walked. </p><p>She was a student at the major university in the city, and regardless of the length or exhaustion of the walk each day, it was always worth it. She loved school so much, to a degree that Utena couldn’t really understand, being the lesbian himbo she was, but always supported her regardless. When they’d first gotten to the city, (and tapped into the remainder of Utena’s surprisingly small inheritance), Anthy had trouble getting out of bed each day, let alone going outside to do anything. Slowly and surely, Utena got her through it, always treating her will love and kindness no matter what. She never pressured her to do anything she didn’t want to, not even the things she was ambivalent about—she only made choices with Anthy’s explicit consent. It was incredibly jarring to the former Rose Bride, but month by month she started to feel whole again. </p><p>Six years now, and she still had her struggles sometimes—the smallest thing would trigger a panic attack here and there, reminding her of a past she so desperately wanted to forget. Utena coaxed her through them, at home or over the phone, staying with her and speaking softly for as long as she needed. She never touched her until she was ready, but remained there to hold her if she so pleased. Anthy had never had a life like this before, a life where someone actually cared about her, consistently and fully. A life where she was free to be herself, free to <em> feel </em>. </p><p>All this being said, Utena gently suggested that she leave the apartment every once and awhile for her own sake when they had first moved into the city, soon after leaving Ohtori all those years ago. Often times she couldn’t bring herself to do more than sit outside for a little, being so scared of everyone that passed by, and their possible malicious intent towards her. After a month or two, Utena got a much needed job working as a trainer at the gym a few blocks over, and was out of the house even more than  before. Anthy had burrowed further into her depression, without any distraction or motivation to do much other than curl up in bed and sleep, or occasionally play with Chuu Chuu. </p><p>Things changed one day when Utena brought home a book. It was a fantasy fiction novel, about a boy who finds out he has magical powers and ends up going to a wizarding school to engage in wacky hijinks with his friends. Anthy was a little skeptical at first, and left the book on their dresser, too jaded to actually try to read it. However, after a particularly long night shift, Utena came home one day to see Anthy curled up on the floor with Chuu Chuu next to the space heater, having fallen asleep with the almost finished book on her face. Utena found it adorable and secretly took a few pictures, and was honestly astonished at how she could read an entire book in one evening, but Utena knew that reading was never her personal forte anyways, and left it at that. </p><p>Utena had gotten the book from the local library, which she passed on her route home from work each day. Realizing that Anthy had finally found something of interest to her, she started to bring home more books whenever she could. Anthy had burned through all seven books in her wizard-boy series in a week and a half, and did the same voraciously with all the other books Utena brought her. She never really asked for any in particular, but rather for Utena to ‘surprise’ her, which she did by either picking books with cool looking covers or desperately asking the librarians for suggestions, much to their amusement.</p><p>Anthy began to go on walks more, laugh more, smile more—even starting to go to the library herself some days. At dinner, she would go on long aimless rants about various novels and authors and topics and the library and so many other things, talking so much that Utena had to remind her to take a break to actually take a bite of her food. She had no idea what Anthy was talking about 99% of the time, but from the spark in her eyes, to the passion in her voice, to the toothy smile and adorable laugh interspersed in these tangents of hers, she found her girlfriend’s dinner time rants to be the highlight of her day.</p><p>Anthy started to spend a lot of her time at the library, to the point where she knew the place like the back of her hand. Every day she got a cup of soup and some hot tea from their little café, and she would spend the afternoon sitting at a table by the window, reading whatever book had caught her attention that afternoon. This development was a relief to Utena, who was ecstatic just to see her finally find a reason to go out and enjoy herself. To satiate her own paranoia, she got Anthy a portable phone battery and some pepper spray, in case she had to walk home in the dark, but beyond that she was relieved to see this boost of her girlfriend’s spirits. </p><p>After months of this, a day finally came where things changed. Anthy went through her normal routine, Chuu Chuu snoring in her cardigan pocket as she settled into her library chair, hot tea in hand. Today they’d had her favorite, cinnamon chai, so she sipped at that contentedly as she cracked open the new book in front of her. It was <em> Sparkling Cyanide </em> by Agatha Christie, who’s collection of works she was currently trying to work her way through in full. </p><p>Fully engrossed in the novel, she felt her heart drop as a random hand fell on her shoulder. She locked up, eyebrows knitted and trembling, fake smile alight and ready as she jolted slightly in her chair, terrified. Another person could have found her reaction dramatic, but given her trauma, how could she possibly relax upon feeling a random person grab her? Her pulse was going a mile a minute as she swiveled around to look behind her. </p><p>“Hey there!” The person in question said, smiling warmly. To Anthy’s extreme relief, it was one of the librarians, or so she assumed from seeing her so often bustling around during her visits. She was probably in her 60s, with short grey hair adorned with a colorful headband, hazel eyes, an auburn knitted sweater over a t shirt with a book pun on it, a patchwork bookbag, and green corduroy pants. She looked sweet, genuine, and a little eccentric, which helped Anthy to feel safe enough to release some of the tension in her shoulders and respond. </p><p>“Hello! Is everything okay? If I am causing a problem of some kind, I can move or leave or—“ </p><p>“No honey, you’re just fine! I just wanted to come sit and talk with you, if that’s alright,” she asked, gesturing in the direction of the chair across from Anthy. </p><p>“Of course! Go right ahead,” Anthy chirped sweetly, a bit confused but curious nonetheless. The woman pulled the chair out, sitting down and hanging her bag on the side of it as she scooted back in. </p><p>“So I’m one of the librarians here if you hadn’t picked up on that—my name is Aiko Maruyama, but you may call me whatever feels comfortable to you! I’ve noticed that you’ve been coming here almost every day for quite awhile now, and yet somehow you’re <em> still </em> an unfamiliar face to me! I see you reading a new book almost every time, and you’re always taking heaps of them with you, so you seem like just the type of person I’d love to meet! You don’t find enough people who appreciate books anymore,” she sighed, her face drooping for a moment, “but anyways!” she exclaimed, returning to her upbeat demeanor, “What is your name? What are your favorite things to read? I love getting recommendations from other bookworms, the same old books get boring after awhile!” she chuckled, eyes crinkling at the sides as she smiled sweetly.</p><p>Anthy spoke softly, a bit overwhelmed by the energetic presence of the woman but growing fond of her the more they spoke. </p><p>“My name is Anthy Himemiya, but the same to you, you may call me whatever you would like! I just come here because I think that drinking some hot tea, reading a good book, and being surrounded by even more books is such a pleasant way to spend one’s afternoon! I could not tell you my favorite book if I tried, I have simply read too many lately,” she replied with an airy giggle.</p><p>“At the moment, though, I am reading <em> ‘Sparkling Cyanide’ </em> by Agatha Christie. I love the mystery of it, and I would love to get through all of her works eventually, even though it is proving a little difficult with some not having full Japanese translations—I have really had to work on my English! What about you? What do you typically like to read? I am always open to new suggestions as well!” Anthy dog eared the corner of the page she was reading, closing the red-covered book as she turned to face the librarian fully.</p><p>“Ooh, that’s a tough one dear,” Aiko mused, placing her forefinger under her chin as she thought, “I just finished a novel, <em> ‘The Bell Jar,’ </em> by Sylvia Plath if you’ve heard of it? Once I started it I simply couldn’t put it down, it was just so compelling and beautifully written, the way she delves into the human psyche and the intricacies of womanhood in such a nuanced and frank manner…” She seemed to trail off dreamily, distracted by her interest in the book. Anthy took mental note of this, assuming that it must really be good to have the woman speak so passionately about it. </p><p>“That sounds wonderful! Who is the author again? So I can write their name down,” the purple haired girl replied, rustling through her bag to find some paper and a pen. </p><p>“Y’know what dear, I think we have a copy somewhere here—give me one moment and I’ll go get it for you!” the older woman said excitedly, flitting off before Anthy could respond. She ducked down for a moment to check on Chuu Chuu, seeing him fast asleep and safely tucked in her oversized sweater pocket, until Ms. Maruyama returned with the book and handed it to her with a smile. </p><p>“Alright, here it is—I already checked it out to your account, so you’re all set! Just tell me what you thought of it when you finish, and it was wonderful to finally meet you Anthy!” She beamed as Anthy slipped the book in her tote bag and stood, gathering her things to leave. </p><p>“You too Ms. Maruyama, it was lovely to meet you, and I look forward to seeing you again soon!” she replied brightly, waving to the librarian as the silver haired woman walked off to the myriad of shelves behind her. Anthy slung her own bag over her shoulder as she made her way to the door, pushing it open with her shoulder as she stepped into the crisp autumn air. </p><p>She couldn’t contain the smile on her face, reveling in the newfound confidence she’d gained from the encounter, if only marginal. For the first time in longer than she’d like to admit, she actually enjoyed a spontaneous social interaction without the looming fear or anxiety to present herself perfectly ruining the moment. She felt more alive than she had in months, more <em> human </em>. </p><p>And for the first time in ages she thought to herself, <em> maybe people aren’t so bad after all </em>.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Roses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Anthy Himemiya <em> hated </em> roses.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hey y'all! so here's chapter 2-- this fic doesn't have a particular direction as of right now, it's more just me exploring Anthy's, and Utena's at times, characters (and occasionally projecting or venting thru Anthy like a dirty nastly little kinnie goblin LMAOOO). i hope you enjoy!!</p><p> </p><p>oh yea and tw for those who may need it: panic attack, sexual harassment, also utena engages in V I O L E N C E</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been a while now since Anthy Himemiya had decided to enroll at the city’s university, as per the suggestion of Ms. Maruyama. The violet-haired young woman had enjoyed working at the library for as long as she did, and had no intention of stopping anytime soon. However, she couldn’t help but agree with the older librarian that she was itching to do something <em> more </em> with all the space and freedom she had nowadays.</p><p>She had gotten her high school diploma, as had Utena, a year before moving to the city so that was a non-issue. After Utena had been discharged from the hospital, the two had found a modest apartment nearby, and by association the closest public high school nestled in the suburbs. </p><p>While this was absolutely a result of their records from Ohtori being all but unattainable, the school had believed Anthy when she chose to lie about their grade upon transferring in, placing them a grade above where they should have been. She did this in order to get them both out and graduated as soon as they could, which they managed to do a year ahead of time by skirting by on her intelligence for the both of them. </p><p>It was less a matter of money—there was enough left of Utena’s inheritance to get them through the next few years of basic living and her necessary supplemental medical treatment and physical therapy—and more that the two of them couldn’t stand the idea of more school. The issue wasn’t a result of the work itself, Anthy really did enjoy learning (and Utena tolerated it), but rather with the concept of being anywhere that reminded them of the past in any shape or form. This, obviously, applied to being anywhere near a secondary school of any kind. </p><p>All that being said, much more had happened since then, but through a series of related events following their graduation they had eventually moved to the city. Anthy had taken her job at the library, Ms. Maruyama had convinced her to apply to the city’s university, and thus she found herself here—a few years later, a few years older, making her way to her 10:00 morning class amid the third year of her psychology major.</p><p>Her commute to the school buildings normally consisted of a 20 minute walk, one that Utena had offered countless times to try and give her a ride through or accompany her as she felt a bit guilty about her girlfriend having to walk that length alone, but each and every time Anthy had declined, not wanting to inconvenience her. What Utena didn’t know, however, is that it wasn’t a 20 minute walk, but rather a 30+ minute one.</p><p>The extra 10 minutes were due to the route-change Anthy had started taking a long while ago, looping around a block or two before resuming her normal trek. Despite it being tiresome, and her having to wake up far earlier than she would have liked to accommodate it, she found the shortcomings worth it considering what she got to avoid. </p><p>As to what she was avoiding exactly, it came down to her two least favorite things: roses and men. Unsurprisingly, Anthy hated roses. She hated them with a burning passion, and even the sight of one from afar was enough to make her want to throw up. It was a fixation she preferred not to go into, as not only did the mere thought of them make her incredibly uncomfortable, but it would all be far too lengthy and unbelievable to explain. Everyone that she would care to have know, (save for Ms. Maruyama who, upon noticing her poorly suppressed reactions at any mention of the flower, did her best to keep Anthy’s work environment comfortable sans-roses without pressing her further on the matter), knew already anyways.</p><p>Secondly, for obvious reasons, Anthy was <em> far </em> from fond of men in any shape or form. She tolerated Miki and put up with Saionji, (if not purely for how fun it was to bully him), but beyond that she had a very hard time trusting them. Almost all of her immense trauma in life thus far could be traced back to men on at least some level, and therefore she maintained that discomfort and apprehension.</p><p>Where these elements tied into her morning commute was the florist a few blocks down from her, nestled into the route she ideally would have liked to take. She would have a fine time passing by any old male florist, as such a thing would have no impact on her directly, but it was this florist in particular that brought about a problem.</p><p>He was tremendously unpopular in the neighborhood, from his aggressive and pushy demeanor, to his crude and often offensive sense of humor, to his lack of respect for customers, and even passerby at times, (usually women), and so on to a plethora of other distasteful qualities that would make anyone uncomfortable. Almost no one, no matter how unique or startling, stood out in such a large, diverse city, so to cause this much of a stir among so many city natives really spoke to the believability of his distasteful character. </p><p>It wasn’t until she saw him harassing a woman on the street one day firsthand, (who luckily had a male companion catch up to her and tell the man off), that she decided, between what she had heard and now seen about the creepy florist, it was best to err on the side of caution and extend her route.</p><p>However, an anxiety she had not felt in quite some time set in one morning when her usual cut-around was partitioned off by some sort of large-scale construction endeavor. This left her with two options: she could either extend her route even further, which would leave her <em> very </em> late for her class, or take the straight route and hope for an uneventful commute. </p><p>Begrudgingly, she chose the latter. </p><p>Anthy took a deep breath as she crossed the crosswalk, tightening her grip on her tote bag as she made her way down the street. She did her best to convince herself that she was simply catastrophizing the situation, a reaction she had learned near the start of her major was more than reasonable for someone with such a sizeable amount of trauma. All she had to do was walk past the soon-approaching little shop—hell, if anything this would show her how paranoid she had been about it all and give her the peace of mind to relax and take this route from then on. </p><p>“Excuse me ma’am, could I interest you in a rose?” she heard a gruff voice call out to her just as she began to pass the shop.</p><p>Her heart seized up for a moment as she froze in place, and she steadied it as best she could before responding. <em> This man seems fairly civil, </em> she thought to herself in a poor attempt at placating her nerves, <em> and all I really have to do is politely decline! </em></p><p>“I think I am alright, but thank you!” She chirped hastily, mentally chastising herself to <em> move already, </em> rather than just standing there, hands folded demurely like a meek statue. </p><p>“Are you sure? Pretty flowers for a pretty lady like you,” the man crooned, making Anthy cringe as he stepped out of the shop’s doorway, brandishing a bouquet that gave off a sickly sweet aura the closer he got to her. She could recognize that smell from a mile away, and started doing all she could in the moment to think rationally and fend off what she knew would be an impending panic attack. </p><p>“No thank you, I do not really like roses,” she replied softly with an anxious laugh, starting to get frustrated at her inability to just run away from the unsightly florist, to suppress the constant suffocating need to be polite for <em> two seconds. </em></p><p><em> These are just some stupid plants, and I am sure that he means well </em> she tried to rationalize to herself as he came closer, <em> but why am I being so ridiculous, why can’t I move?? </em> With each spiraling thought she only managed to make herself more upset, rather than actually ease her mind in any way as the beady-eyed man began to encroach upon her personal space. </p><p>“Who doesn’t like roses? I insist,” he asserted with a smirk, way too close for comfort at this point, “business has been slow this week, so I can sell them to you half off, sweet cheeks,” he smelled like cigarette smoke and fertilizer, making Anthy recoil as she practically screamed at herself to <em> move. </em></p><p>She brought her hands up, laughing nervously as her legs finally began to respond, backing away further out onto the sidewalk. At this point she was well past the point of being panicked, (and <em> quite </em> surprised at how no one had managed to pass by her since the beginning of this altercation, even though it was 9:45 in the morning in a big city on a <em> Tuesday </em> for god’s sake). She couldn’t tell if she should be kicking herself for not trusting her paranoid intuition or whether her luck was just awful, but either way she was far too worked up to logically extricate herself from the scenario.</p><p>Every alarm possible went off blaring in her mind as soon as the man reached out and harshly grabbed her wrist, escalating what was previously an uncomfortable but escapable situation in the blink of an eye. <em> Jesus christ, where were the annoying number of passing civilians in this city when you actually needed them?? </em></p><p>Speaking of the devil, a man in a crisp suit began to walk past, leaving Anthy relieved and subsequently devastated and a little angry. He made eye contact with her, clearly seeing the distress painted on her face, and chose to simply look away and turn his nose up, quickening his pace to pass by what was clearly a situation that needed interfering.</p><p>“No thank you, no thank you no thank you I have somewhere to be please let me <em> go, </em>” she pleaded, her body locking up as she did the only thing she could bring herself to do—scrunch her eyes shut and wait for it to be over. </p><p>She was still reeling, having no idea how the situation escalated this quickly, and what exactly this man expected to get out of grabbing a random woman on the street. She doubted this would ever convince anyone to buy from him, much less engage with him sexually, but she supposed being awful enough to attract such negative attention in a large metropolitan area, where hardly anyone garnered attention from the jaded city natives, must yield some truth. Most irritatingly of all, she had no idea how <em> not one person </em> passing by had intervened to help her yet—. </p><p>“Anthy, you forgot your lunch!” </p><p>The violet-haired girl felt both relieved beyond belief and somehow a bit more terrified as she heard a distant but familiar voice echo from behind her, followed by footsteps on the pavement, rapidly increasing in volume. </p><p>This man was <em> in for it </em> now. </p><p>The footsteps came to an abrupt stop as Utena’s next greeting caught in her throat. </p><p>“What exactly is going on here,” the taller girl asked, eyebrows knit and tone suddenly serious as she processed the scene in front of her. </p><p>“Oh this? This is nothin’ we’re just talking is all,” the man said nonchalantly, short, grimy nails digging into Anthy’s skin. The shorter girl whipped her head around and flashed Utena a panicked, wide-eyed look, silently signaling for help while still trying to wrest her arm from the florist’s iron grip. Utena’s voice dropped to a low growl, trying her best to give the man a chance to extract himself without incident, rather than beating him to a pulp in front of an already terrified Anthy. </p><p>“That’s a load of <em> horseshit, </em> so I suggest you get your hands off my girlfriend right now if you know what’s good for you.”</p><p>Utena had a temper, that was a known fact. Not one that ever presented itself of Anthy’s accord, and not one that was all too serious, but she was definitely pissed off rather easily. She did a lot of yelling when her bullshit-tolerance was exceeded, and when she felt the need to stand up for her friends, but it was a bit more rare to see her genuinely angry, as she was now. How would one differentiate, you ask? You could be certain things were about to get messy when she got quiet. Utena Tenjou was <em> never </em> quiet.</p><p>“Mind your business, dyke,” the somewhat-balding man spat with a greasy chuckle, clearly getting a kick out of the situation as Utena clenched her fists painfully tight at her sides. </p><p>“This is your last chance,” she warned, staring him down as she began to roll up her sleeves, “Hands. Off.” </p><p>Once again, he seemed amused by this all, having no idea who he was talking to and how short of a fuse and comprehensive of an athletic background she had. If he had the slightest idea what the young woman in front of him was capable of, (and itching to do), he wouldn’t have so much as <em> thought </em> about saying what he did next. </p><p>“And if I don’t?” the man lilted dismissively, still treating this all as some big joke, “what are you gonna do, try and hit me with your girly little mits over this bitch?”</p><p>Anthy winced, not at the insult itself, but rather at knowing exactly what was coming next.</p><p>She knew that in that moment, on that sidewalk, on that cloudy Tuesday morning, Utena Tenjou would gladly choose violence. </p><p>And she did. </p><p>Before the man could register a thing, the pink-haired athlete strode up and sucker punched him right between the eyes. She could hear his nose crack audibly, her girlfriend darting back as he instinctively let go of her wrist to defend himself. </p><p>The greasy, pot-bellied florist threw a sloppy punch her way, Utena deflecting it with ease as she roundhouse kicked him in the shin, knocking his feet out from under him. He hit the concrete flat on his back with a thud, the wind knocked out of him as he swore up at her in between gasps for air. </p><p>“Listen here you limp dicked, stupid, virgin, loser, <em> nasty ass motherfucker, </em> ” she barked, punctuating each insult with another hit. A small nosy crowd, ( <em> now </em> they finally decided to show up), had developed off to the side as she got on top of him, continuing to punch the hell out of the man, hearing bones crack and blows land until Anthy finally dragged her off and away. The petite librarian was almost convinced she heard a few ribs crack too. </p><p>He was a groaning, still weakly swearing, practically a bloody pulp at this point, and while Utena was a bit banged up herself, the only wounds she had were a cut to her lip, busted knuckles, and a few bruises. </p><p>It was on this note that the two of them heard distant sirens headed their way, red and blue lights approaching in tandem as a police car approached them. Someone had called the fucking <em> cops. </em></p><p>“Shit.”</p><p> </p><p>************************************************************************************************</p><p>Juri managed to bail Utena out of jail the next morning, as well as pull some strings to keep her record clean. The older woman was not happy about this, less because it cost her all that much effort, (as much power as she had at her…fencing business…), and more because she had to cancel a hookup with a hot socialite to do it. While this may have sounded absurd to some, the pink-haired young woman knew her well enough to accept it and apologize without question, just glad herself to be out of trouble’s way and going home.</p><p>The second she got home and opened the door to their apartment, Anthy was on her, apologizing frantically before the taller girl could even kick her shoes off. </p><p>“I am so sorry—I should have been able to just run away like a normal person, but he had roses and I froze and panicked far more than I should have and you got in trouble and—”</p><p>Utena cut her off with an embrace, burying the shorter girl’s head into her chest as she tried to calm her down, whispering soothing words of reassurance until she began to stop shuddering. Anthy found her pulse steadying as her girlfriend softly pet her hair, breathing in the comforting scent of faint detergent and cotton on the taller girl’s sweatshirt.</p><p>“You know you can always call me, right? And remember that greasy assholes not knowing how to act is <em> never </em> your fault, no matter what.” Utena assured the shorter girl softly, trying not to look down at the ring of bruises adorning her girlfriend’s wrist. </p><p>“Utena?” Anthy asked, gaze fixated on the floor, tone barely audible.</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“Does your offer to walk with me to school still stand? Because if so,” Utena giggled a bit as Anthy nuzzled further into sweatshirt, arms snaking up to wrap around her waist snugly as her words were further muffled, “I would very much like to take you up on that…”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>so as someone with a SEXY amount of clinical anxiety, i tried to write out an authentic panic attack as best i could, from my experience at least-- as usual, if you liked this chapter and want some more, drop some kudos or a comment before if you want! and ideas for my silly little utena universe or constructive criticism are always welcome!!! :)</p><p>oh ALSO, if you want some LOVELY UTENA ART, go check @lcatscookie on tumblr!! D O  I T</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Long-Awaited Conversation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Anthy asks Saionji to meet her for dinner, for what she says is an 'important conversation' they need to have.<br/>He's scared of what that means.<br/>He should be.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>honestly im just insane have fun with this chapter theres definitely a sexy amount of angst i suppose, im a psych major what do you peopl want from me-- as usual, blah blah read my other fics in my future au and ill kiss u</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’ll pay,” Saionji blurted, trying and failing to lighten the mood and quell his nerves, only to have his voice crack miserably.</p><p>“Correct.”</p><p>That was certainly not an answer he had expected, perhaps more of a “thank you,” or an “are you sure?”, but he was aware enough of the gravity behind <em>Anthy Himemiya</em> texting <em>him</em> to have an ‘important discussion’ over dinner. One on one.</p><p>The tension in the air could be cut with a knife as Anthy slid into the booth’s cracked vinyl seat across from Saionji, smoothing her skirt and folding her hands in her lap as she sat. The waitress seemed to have already set down glasses of water for the both of them, but neither of the pair felt remotely interested in drinking them. Almost as soon as they settled in, before Saionji had the chance to ask any questions about the nature of their outing, Anthy began to speak in an uncharacteristically authoritative manner.</p><p>“It has been six years if I am not mistaken, forgive me if I am wrong, since the… events… at Ohtori. As for why I invited you here today, I am only going to have this discussion once, after which we will <em>never</em> speak about this again. Am I understood?”</p><p>Saionji gave a curt nod, too nervous at this abrupt and mildly threatening shift in demeanor to give a verbal response of any kind. Anthy could easily sense his anxiety, but did not care in the slightest to comfort him, and thus her poker face remained stoically unreadable. He was a grown up, he would be fine, and this conversation was not about him.</p><p>“Regardless of your age at the time, you were undeniably old enough to possess the cognizance not to act as you did, yet you chose to let your obsessive infatuation with me—no, the <em>idea</em> of me— and your anger at a petty high school rejection manifest into, for lack of better wording, you being an absolute fucking <em>dick</em>.”</p><p>Saionji cringed a bit as she swore with the same monotony and nonchalance as someone complaining about a chore or reading off of a grocery list. He honestly didn’t even think that Anthy was physically capable of swearing, which set off blaring sirens in his head as he found himself wringing his hands, unable to make eye contact with her as she went on. When he showed up that diner, he definitely didn’t expect in a thousand years to hear Anthy say ‘fuck’ as she tore into him, and, if he was being honest, it was somewhat terrifying.</p><p>Anthy was well aware of this, and she was having a <em>field day</em> with it, barely suppressing a smirk as she continued.</p><p>“However, I am <em>more</em> than aware of the events and occurrences back at the school, obviously. I will not go into detail, because it is an understandably sensitive subject for all of us—and quite frankly I would rather crack my skull with a brick than talk about it more than I must—but the one thing I will say is this.”</p><p>She took a moment to pause before speaking, carefully constructing her next sentence in her head.</p><p>“While I am in no way excusing you being a piece of shit where credit is due, take care parsing through the latter chunk of everything that happened.”</p><p>Saionji quirked an eyebrow, not quite following what she meant. Anthy’s expression softened for the first time that evening as she gave him a ghost of a smile, softening her tone to sound somewhat reassuring as she spoke, hesitating a bit before she did.</p><p>“What my…,” she had to pause for a moment to correct herself, that <em>thing</em> was not her brother, “Akio manipulated you to do is <em>not</em> your fault, and it never will be. He saw you as another pawn to use and discard as was beneficial, as he did so many others, and took advantage of your insecurities, of your <em>weaknesses</em>, of the things that made you <em>hurt</em>, and weaponized them against you. Trust me when I say I <em>know</em> the difference between the truly irredeemable and the not, and you are not like him. Do not think otherwise, Saionji.”</p><p>Anthy, in her, (unknown to all besides her, but presumably <em>very</em> <em>many</em>), years of living, had seen her fair share of irredeemable people. She had seen disgusting, she had seen appalling, and she had, without a trace of a doubt, seen evil. For a very long time, especially alongside years of Akio’s <em>nauseatingly</em> saccharine voice in her ear, she saw it in herself. In the microaggressions. In the targeted, minute instigations. In the nuanced, <em>sick</em> little power plays and the simplistically sadistic mind games. She saw it in the pleasure she took in sending people over the edge, if not only to gain some semblance of control over her own life, to be the one hurting, rather than being hurt, for one <em>goddamn<em> minute.</em></em></p><p>In the grand scheme of it all, especially in these past few years, finally distant from that place, those memories, and her power itself, really, she had realized some things. One, (and this conclusion took a generous amount of 'Utena-ness' to come to), she, herself, was <em>not </em>evil. At worst, she was complacent, less of an active mastermind and more of a horribly fucked-up moderate enabler. In reality, however, she was manipulated. She was used and abused and cast aside at will, not a person but a <em>tool</em>, a tool made of pain and power and flowers and air. An easy scapegoat.</p><p>A witch.</p><p>It wasn’t until she finally came to terms with the crucial role her power played in the cycle of deceit, violence, and psychological destruction Akio had so artfully constructed and enacted within the bounds of that place that she understood. Without her, what did he have? While she may have not been the despicable villain behind it all that Akio so desperately tried to paint her as, hadn’t been the wanton sorceress <em>directly</em> responsible for his actions and circumstances, (she could still feel the cast iron of the blades piercing her skin, and oh <em>god</em> did it fucking <em>hurt</em>), she was the foundation of it all, and once you yank the floor out from under a person, they inevitably fall.</p><p>That said, the next thing Anthy had realized was the miniscule blip Saionji was within the breadth of it all. He wasn’t evil. He was a pathetic, powerless, constantly overshadowed teenager with a shallow unceasing desire to manifest his crippling insecurity as pitifully and embarrassingly brash outbursts of violence and venom at <em>anyone</em> around him, all in an effort to gain one <em>second</em> of attention. All that commotion to be seen, to be wanted, to finally reach a branch into the sun from under the overbearing willow that covered him in the unending shadow it cast.</p><p>While it was true that the Rose Bride had no free will whatsoever, perhaps that’s what a seventeen-year-old with a toxic shitshow of a social life and no support system whatsoever, (Anthy had always presumed that he had a fucked up home life, because who ends up <em>that</em> much of a toxically masculine traditionalist without a shitty father, not that she cared enough to ask and find out), wanted. Someone who <em>had</em> to want him, to desire him—to see him.</p><p>Someone who wouldn’t leave, because they <em>couldn’t</em>.</p><p>It was almost pitiful, really. Pitiful to watch him flail around like a fool, searching for the validation he would never find, and lashing out in rage when he couldn’t find it. Sometimes, back then, she even found it amusing amongst the endless monotony of the half-alive existence she led.</p><p>But this psychological ineptitude, this <em>weakness</em> of his, Akio saw it, as did Touga to an extent she supposed, (who Anthy, notably, had no pity for. He was a knowing accomplice, holding power himself under Akio’s perverted gaze, pathetically limited as it was, and her sympathy ran dry at the thought of him. Of all people, she <em>more</em> than had the right not to care in the <em>slightest</em> about trying to forgive those who wronged her). Akio saw yet another pawn to factor into his inescapably complex machine, one that crushed any sense of self within the grinding of its gears. Saionji, like so many others, was pulled in, chewed up, and spit out the minute he was no longer of use. People were used, and discarded like a grey, long-chewed up stick up gum devoid of all flavor, all moisture, and all that made it, well, <em>gum</em>.</p><p>She almost chuckled to herself at the stupid analogy, one she’d come up with offhand so as not to have to think about a more obvious one, (wilted roses came to mind).</p><p>This all brought Anthy to her most important revelation—she deserved contentment, and she deserved <em>peace</em>. So many sources of suffering throughout her life, so many of seemingly unending and unbearable pain, were things and people and places that she would never get find once more to seek closure from, or to seek any semblance of resolution. Hundreds of years will do that to you, she supposed. It will pepper in moments of indescribable despair, and yank them out from beneath you before the thought of healing can begin to cross your mind.</p><p>This though, she had. While Saionji wasn’t all too consequential in the grand scheme of it all, of all she'd endured, (not by a <em>longshot<em>),</em></em> he was a start, at least. Years of (jarringly) unexpected self-improvement and growth she’d seen, especially now that they all regarded… Akio… as a distant memory, lent her the opportunity to take yet another loose thread in her life into her hands. Touga being out of the picture seemed to do wonders for the man as well, and so, all this taken into account, she was finally presented with the opportunity to have something she had craved her entire life.</p><p>
  <em>Closure<em>.</em></em>
</p><p>Now, if she were to say all of this to him right now, she concluded upon snapping back from her mental tangent, it would be a bit (read: a <em>lot</em>), of an overload for his simple little brain, which would simply drag this on longer, and so she took mercy and refrained.</p><p>Anthy pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger as she let out an exasperated sigh, using the other hand to tuck a lock of plum-hued hair behind her ear before picking up where she had left off.</p><p>“I have seen years of improvement now, not just on your own part, which quite frankly I could not care <em>less</em> about, but in your treatment of others. Kozue and Wakaba are definitive examples, but overall you have seemed to develop a sense of…” she mused on this for a second, knitting her eyebrows and folding her arms over her chest in a begrudging show of acknowledgement, “<em>empathy</em>.”</p><p>Saionji ran a hand through his hair absentmindedly as he opened his mouth to say something, cut off by Anthy gesturing a finger at him sharply. Her abrupt shift in tone sent chills down his spine as she stared him down, intentionally threatening in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before from her.</p><p>
  <em> “Did I say I was finished speaking?” </em>
</p><p>He immediately shut his mouth and let his hands rest under the table, wisely shutting up.</p><p>“Understand that I have spent a sizeable amount of time mulling this matter over, and that my next statement is sincere. I give you my word on that. Do not ask me for reasoning, because I have a migraine and I did not really plan on explaining the complexity of my resolution to begin with.”</p><p>She took a breath before letting out a sigh, releasing the tension from her shoulders as the man across from her did the opposite with his, practically holding his breath in anticipation.</p><p>“I forgive you.”</p><p>Saionji froze for a minute, fixated on the glass of water closest to him as he processed what Anthy had just said. The woman in question remained poised as ever, hands once again folded in her lap as she waited to regain his attention, a tad impatient but remaining silent nonetheless. After a minute or two, her irritation got the best of her and she interjected, jarring Saionji from his daze.</p><p>“This is a decision I do not take lightly. I will not repeat myself, I will not elaborate any further, and this conversation will be the <em>end</em> of our discussion on the matter. Have I made myself clear?”</p><p>“Uh, y-yes? Thank you so much, this is never something I expected you to do, I assumed you’d hate me indefinitely which would make sense given everything I put you through, and thank you for what you said abou—"</p><p>“You are welcome. Now shut up. The rambling is annoying.”</p><p>Anthy rubbed her temples once more after cutting him off, his gratitude-ridden word vomiting only further exacerbating the pounding in her head. She could not <em>wait </em>to get out of here so she could curl up in a dark room with a cup of herbal tea. However, this clown had promised to pay for their meal, and Anthy Himemiya would be <em>damned </em>if she didn’t extort him for money and food as the opportunity presented itself. She may have forgiven his more serious transgressions, but she still had no problem indulging in a little pettiness here and there.</p><p>Before things could get any more awkward, the waitress came around to take their orders. Anthy didn’t pay attention to what Saionji ordered, because she didn’t care, but she herself went out of her way to order several of the most expensive things on the menu. She saw him wince out of the corner of her eye as she did, but watched him clench his jaw and start idly cracking his knuckles to distract himself from saying anything out of line.</p><p>She didn’t even like most of what she chose, but it was more a matter of petty satisfaction than the food itself. Besides, Utena would probably eat it when she brought it home—her girlfriend’s stomach was a black hole, she'd eat <em>anything</em>.</p><p>Saionji tried to make idle small talk as they waited for the food, but wasn’t getting far with his uncooperative tablemate. She would give him curt, one-word answers, only indulging in a short chat about Wakaba and his workplace alongside Utena, but beyond that, the raw lack of chemistry was suffocating.</p><p>The two sighed with relief once the food arrived, Saionji for finally having a break in the conversation purgatory he was stuck in, and Anthy because she could finally, as she promptly did, suggest they box up their respective leftovers to take home, not caring to drag this outing any longer than necessary.</p><p>Saionji agreed.</p><p>After going up to pay, (Anthy couldn’t help but crack a smile upon seeing the bill and the subsequent pained look on the face seated across from her, but did, mercifully, leave the tip herself), the two booked it out of the restaurant, hurriedly thanking the staff as they did. Once they were out on the street, where it had grown much darker than when they had entered the building, Anthy pivoted to begin her moderately-lengthy walk home, before feeling a hand on her arm.</p><p>Before the owner of said hand registered it, she had slapped it away and was somehow holding a taser that was now pointed directly at him.</p><p>
  <em> “Holy SHIT is that a FUCKING TASER WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU GET A TASER????"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Touch me again and I will end your fucking LIFE right HERE and NOW.” </em>
</p><p>He put both his hands up, eyes wide as he stepped back before frantically explaining himself so as not to, yknow, <em>get tased</em>.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I just wanted to get your attention to ask how you’re getting home I swear to god, I get the paranoia but <em>please don’t tase me Anthy??</em>” he stammered out, shoulders dropping with a sigh of relief as she slipped the weapon back into her canvas tote bag.</p><p>“Anyways…” he chuckled anxiously, doing his best to forget about the taser and offer some kind of olive branch, “do you want a ride? It’s kind of dark for you to be walking home, y’know, in the city at night, with you being so…”</p><p>He didn’t finish his sentence, the woman glaring daggers at him with narrowed eyes, knowing that calling her ‘small’ wouldn’t fare well for his chances of surviving the night. Sure, he was a foot taller, but he could think of several ways to murder a person without that being an issue. If she had a taser in her bag, god <em>knows</em> what else she had in there.</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>They made their way down the street, spaced as far apart as the sidewalk would allow, to find his beat-up sedan (poorly) parallel parked, ticket on the windshield.</p><p>“Goddammit,” he groaned, smacking a palm to his forehead as Anthy broke into hysterics.</p><p>He was more taken aback by her than the ticket, he’d never heard her laugh like this before. She sounded, for lack of more eloquent wording human—something he supposed, (in no way helped by his own past actions), she had never gotten to be until recently. Or maybe he just wasn't paying attention to much outside of himself.</p><p>It was nice to know she was finally living. Comforting, in a way, to know that they both, slowly but surely, were becoming actual <em>people</em>.</p><p>“Alright, get in the damn car,” he shouted lightheartedly with a roll of his eyes as he walked around to the driver’s side, Anthy hauling herself up from where she was doubled over, cackling on the pavement, opening the other door and slipping into the passenger’s seat.</p><p>Anthy wiped the lingering tears in her eyes from laughing her ass off at Saionji’s <em>awful</em> luck before clicking her seatbelt and shutting the passenger door, him starting the car as she did. A ghost of a smile lingered on her face as she mock-scolded him, mildly startling Saionji, who anticipated a drive filled with yet <em>more</em> awkward silence.</p><p>“Listen,” she chastised, voice playfully serious as she finally cracked a joke, after inflicting <em>3 hours of sociopsychological torture</em> on Saionji’s part, “if you tell anyone I swore today, I will make your death look like an <em>accident</em>. I have an image to maintain, of course!”</p><p>He rolled is eyes as he flicked on his turn signal at the intersection, Anthy wagging a finger at him as she continued.</p><p>“Besides, it loses its shock value if people expect it, does it not? Go ahead and tell me that when I first called you a ‘fucking dick’ earlier on in our exchange, you were not scared out of your <em>mind</em>.”</p><p>“Well I guess I can’t, you certainly did a great job of keeping me on my toes today, in the worst ways possible—I didn’t even know you could to be honest!”</p><p>“What do you mean? I do not recall swearing, perhaps you were hearing things?” the smaller girl cooed with a tilt of her head, feigning confusion as the man in the driver’s seat let out a dramatic sigh, using a free hand to gesture vaguely at her for emphasis.</p><p>“Are you gaslighting me, Himemiya? That’s supposed to be <em>my</em> job, dammit—” he cut himself off, realizing how awful and horrifically tone-deaf that sounded, “<em>wait no that was in really poor taste forgive m</em>—”</p><p>“Oh yes, extremely distasteful, but still <em>really fucking funny</em>,” she replied through breaks in the full-on laughter she’d once again broken into, somehow even more hysterical than before as the other rolled his eyes at her, evenually breaking into a laugh himself. They were both losing it by the time they pulled up to the curb outside her and Utena’s apartment complex, (partly from the joke itself, and partly because neither of them had laughed like that in <em>god</em> knows how long).</p><p>Anthy hefted her tote bag over her shoulder, leftovers meticulously tucked away inside, before pushing the door open and swinging her legs out to shimmy onto the sidewalk. Before she could give a quick farewell and go inside, however, Saionji stopped her one last time, calling her name with an inquisitive look on his face. She decided to indulge him, turning on her heel to duck her head back in the car with a sigh with an unamused quirk of her eyebrow.</p><p>“Wait a minute, before you go, I was just wondering—how old are you, uh, technically?”</p><p>Anthy giggled at this, only cackling harder as his expression darkened in confusion, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth so she could calm down and compose herself. It was so <em>cute</em> that he thought he could ask something like that and get an <em>answer,</em> just because they had <em>one</em> outing alone together without someone ending up <em>dead</em>. Once she had done so, she responded with a lilt, mischievous smile plastered across her face before turning once again, and walking over and up the steps to her apartment.</p><p>“<em>Wouldn’t you like to know</em>.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>so what'd ya think? i was kinda worried about this one ngl, so if you liked it drop a kudos or comment below, and if you didnt lemme know as well LMAO, and, of course, if you'd like to see more of my silly little future au, i have a TON of other fics ive written interwoven into the same universe.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Human</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>im sorry if this chapter sounds pretentious or anything like that, i have no sense of what i sound like as a writer i just kind of finally had some inspiration to write for .0005 seconds and this is what my brain manically produced. oh yea also ms. maruyama the poggers MVP librarian lady from chapter 1 is back hello</p><p>(also TW: for a LOT of angst, talk of self hatred sort of and anthy's fun fucked up psychology, and akio's mentioned so i hope that helps anyone who needs it!)</p><p>edit: oh my GOD ITALICS ARENT WORKING AGAIN AND MY PRETENTIOUS WRITING DOESNT HIT THE SAME WITHOUT THE <em>ITALICS</em></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You see, I am not quite sure how to go about this, because I know she absolutely will <em>not</em> ask—I would imagine that she would believe me inclined to say ‘yes’ out of obligation regardless of my own feelings, which I suppose I can understand but I cannot tell if that makes <em>me</em> the proble—"</p><p><em><em>“</em></em>Anthy dear, slow <em>down</em>," Ms. Maruyama interrupted softly, stopping the young woman’s nervous rant before it could go off the rails. Anthy took a pause at this, assuming that the head librarian had more to say, only to be left puzzled as she turned on her heel and left the break room.</p><p>It was 9:00 am on a cloudy, unremarkable Saturday morning, (Anthy typically worked morning shifts on the weekends, when she didn’t have university classes). The library itself didn’t open until 10:00, and while she didn’t <em>need</em> to come in this early, she knew that her supervisor, the head librarian Aiko Maruyama, would be there, and Anthy quite enjoyed her company. Utena had the morning shift at the gym where she worked on Saturdays as well, (Anthy couldn’t <em>imagine</em> having to clock in as a personal trainer at <em>7:00 in the damn morning</em>), so it wasn’t as if they would’ve had much of a Saturday morning to spend together anyways. All this in account, Anthy made it a habit of hers to come in early on Saturdays, if not just to chat with Aiko and get some leisure-reading in.</p><p>After a few minutes of standing there awkwardly, waiting for the older woman to, (hopefully), come back, the she returned with a mug of tea, a few napkins, a spoon, and a plastic container in hand.</p><p>“Here—breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and <em>don’t try to tell me you’ve already eaten</em>, because I wasn’t born yesterday,” she insisted, extending the items out to Anthy, who wordlessly took them with a small smile, going over to the break-room table, pulling out a chair to sit down, and spreading the articles across the table as Aiko settled in across from her.</p><p>The tea, going by the smell of it at least, was peppermint—Anthy’s favorite as of late, (with the amount of tea she had on a regular basis, her favorites changed pretty frequently, but Ms. Maruyama somehow managed to stay on top of it). To the left of it, the container turned out to be one of those single-serving disposable cereals, this one in particular being Lucky Charms. Not that anyone really <em>knew</em> this fact other than Utena and, (<em>somehow </em>because Anthy sure didn’t remember <em>telling her</em>, Aiko, but since discovering the cereal after she left Ohtori, (she only picked them out at first because of how ridiculous they looked), they’d become what she could easily consider her #1 comfort food. As in the ‘eating-handfuls-straight-out-of-the-box’ degree of favor.</p><p>“We don’t have any milk so I hope that’ll do, and,” Ms. Maruyama continued, chuckling a bit as Anthy hesitantly picked up a spoonful of the cereal, before gesturing towards the bowl and chiming in again “and I <em>know</em> you like to pick the marshmallows out, dear, so there’s no need to put up a front about it.”</p><p>Anthy let out a small laugh-sigh at this, giving up the act and beginning to pick out the little colored charms from the bowl as the older woman began to speak. It was one of those habits she had that didn’t quite fit into the image people tended to have of her, and therefore became somewhat embarrassing to be caught doing—but she didn’t mind the older librarian, who had <em>more </em>than her fair share of odd habits herself.</p><p>“Now you just sit there and enjoy that, and I’ll do my best to impart a bit of my ‘sagely wisdom’ upon you,” she said with a breathy laugh, sarcastically emphasizing the latter term, “about what I presume is the engagement crisis again?”</p><p>Anthy gave a curt nod at this, having efficiently sorted at least half the marshmallows out of the bowl by now, the sugary picked-out clusters piled on a napkin next to it. Another reason the older, (well, ‘older’, but that was besides the point), woman had grown on her was, aside from her kindness and warm demeanor, how perceptive she was. It wasn’t every day Anthy found someone as eerily perceptive and effectively passive-aggressive as she was herself. Despite her usual temperament, the <em>second </em>someone acted out of line around Aiko Maruyama, the woman switched on the <em>spot</em>, instantly going cold and monotone, straight out of fucks to give, ready to inconvenience people, commit nuanced psychological hate crimes, and ruin days on <em>purpose</em>.</p><p>This pleased Anthy.</p><p>But, anyways, she almost felt bad for the older woman, with the number of times by now she’d talked her head off about the engagement-situation. It wasn’t something she could really discuss with anyone else, (especially not Utena, for obvious reasons).</p><p>It had been awhile that they’d been together now, her and Utena. <em>Years</em>, even without their time at Ohtori, which, predictably, brought certain questions to the forefront. Anthy knew, without a doubt, that Utena <em>wanted </em>to marry her—the girl was the open book to <em>end </em>all open books. However, Anthy also knew, without a doubt, that Utena would <em>not </em>be proposing to her. Period. All in all, it wasn’t for any particularly negative reason, but rather, (albeit a bit oversimplified), a well-intentioned one.</p><p>After a life of…well…a life like <em>Anthy’s</em>, Utena did <em>everything</em> in her power to make her comfortable, down to the smallest detail. She rarely gave orders anymore, for one. Not that she ever did so in a particularly <em>serious </em>matter, per se, but even the little things seemed to be worth caring about—sometimes as miniscule as a ‘can you pass me the salt,’ rather than ‘pass me the salt’.</p><p>Now, it goes without saying that Anthy appreciated this more than words could say, despite her countless efforts to assure Utena that it was <em>far </em>from necessary. Despite it, admittedly, being harder some days than others, Anthy Himemiya’s days of complacency, of a life surviving via placation and illusion and <em>sociopsychological self-flagellation</em> were long past. The second she stepped foot off of that wretched campus, she swore <em>never </em>again to have her life dictated by anyone other than herself. Not by silly little boys, driven by their crippling insecurity complexes to prove their standing via the girls, (<em>read: trophies</em>), they collect and control. Not by blind, ditzy <em>children </em>expecting her to entertain their air-headed illusions of grandeur as she was slapped around like a rag doll, only to receive far more nuanced, underhanded, calculated poison than bolstered pride from her in return.</p><p>And <em>never again</em> by pathetic <em>worms </em>masquerading as angels, 'fallen from grace', by disgusting fucking <em>parasites </em>playing the part of the ‘misunderstood prince’, shoving some false, <em>revoltingly</em> <em>thick </em>sense of guilt down her throat for their own absolution before waltzing off to manipulate yet another purer, poorer, <em>far </em>more naïve little plaything. To seal the ever-growing stress fractures snaking their way through the foundation of their precariously fronted Madonna-Whore complex, the only self-defined value they have left to cling to, all at the expense of <em>her </em>survival, leaving Anthy to stand ramrod straight at the edge of a dilapidated stone-cobbled arena wanting <em>nothing more</em> than to<em> shove her hand down her gullet and vomit up the thickening cluster of lies and excuses forced down it until she couldn’t anymore</em>, nails digging into the satin of her blood-red petticoat as she, rather, slowly, silently, <em>oh-so-demurely</em> choked to <em>death on it. </em></p><p>Anthy didn’t see herself as innocent—far from it, in fact. After ages of being told she was bad, a witch, that she was <em>evil beyond repair</em>; who wouldn’t? It was Utena, however, who kept her grounded. It was wonderful, genuine, <em>unceasingly hopeful</em> Utena who made her feel like a person ought to—not irredimably, despicably evil, and not idolistically pure, faultless and virtuous till the end. No, Utena had matured far past that. Especially after everything she went through.</p><p>It was a matter of parsing through what was and wasn’t real, really. Utena, flesh and blood and living and <em>breathing </em>Utena, was real. Her touch, her soothing voice when the night terrors came with a vengeance—that was real. Her smile, the way she managed to make the worst days feel survivable, (if only <em>just</em> so), was real. Her eyes, so <em>so </em>blue, her calloused palms in Anthy’s on a cool winter morning, her voice, full of inflection and bursting with enthusiasm, and the<em> adorable way her voice cracked when she got mad</em>— that was real.</p><p>The surgical scars, spanning across her mid-back at the entry point, and from her breastbone down her ribcage, the exit, it was a <em>miracle, </em>(Anthy hated that <em>fucking</em> word), that someone happened to be driving by that random patch of road where she’d been left to die, she still had no <em>idea</em> how she got there but any longer without making it to the hospital and she <em>easily </em>would have bled to de—</p><p>That, too, was real.</p><p>Every time she saw them, flashes here and there as the taller girl tugged her shirt over her head to change before bed, or peeking out of the low back of her sports bra before she went for a run, and god <em>help</em> Anthy when Utena let her see them on <em>purpose</em>— even after all this time, she couldn’t help but wince as the guilt came at her like a well-forecasted tsunami.</p><p>But Utena forgave her. Utena understood what had happened, (it took awhile for all of the memories to come back to her—sometimes Anthy wished the rose-haired girl would’ve stayed just as blissfully amnesiac about it all as she was in that hospital bed, lord <em>knows </em>it would be easier now). Utena understood why she did what she did, and what was done to her and the decades of raw, unfettered, <em>meticulously, unbelievably calculated </em>manipulation that had driven her to do what she did. She understood it all, and, (to Anthy’s surprise), understood that none of that just made it all go away.</p><p>That <em>Anthy Himemiya </em>was the one who drove that sword through her in the end, and that there was simply<em> no way</em> around this fact.</p><p>This was a surprise to Anthy, as she’d expected to receive the usual ‘Utena-Brand’ method of excusing and forgetting for the sake of blissful ignorance and protective simplicity, (not that she didn’t understand the mindset— there were so many things she herself would’ve done anything to get to just ignore). To Anthy, this was the single most reassuring thing she could have gotten—acknowledgement that <em>she </em>had hurt Utena, but that she could come back from what she did, that she was redeemable, <em>that she was human</em>. She wasn’t some goddess, a damsel on a pedestal who could do no wrong. True forgiveness, the former rose-bride had always thought, forgiveness that she could <em>accept</em>, was centred on the realization that there was something to <em>forgive</em>—something that was done that <em>hurt</em>, in order to heal.</p><p>Once Anthy had finally begun to take that in, the healing began. She finally began to tell what was <em>real</em>. Most important of all, of course, that their feelings for each other were real.</p><p>Not that Anthy could say she knew what love felt like, (she couldn’t remember the last time she’d regarded the emotion with anything other than cynical disdain), but Utena made her feel whole and content and <em>worthy of life</em> in a way no one ever had, and she had no intention of letting that go for the world. Anthy <em>wanted</em> <em>that</em>, selfish as she saw herself for it, and she <em>wanted to have that</em>, and to give it back as much as she could, and for once Anthy wanted nothing more than just to let herself be <em>happy</em>.</p><p>Happiness, she had decided, was Utena Tenjou.</p><p>All this said, the sweet, down-to-earth, free-spirited, hilarious, <em>incredible</em> girl she now got to fall asleep next to each night was, to put it dramatically, none other than the love of her life. Anthy was confident Utena felt the same, but just as confident that Utena’s love for her, always ever-so comprehensive and nuanced to the smallest detail, posed an issue this time.</p><p>Anthy was sure that Utena believed a proposal on her part, such a weighty, <em>consequential</em> question, could end up yielding the answer Anthy thought was ‘right’, the one that would placate Utena most rather than the answer that would make her happiest. Old habits die hard, and so Anthy couldn’t blame her, but now there was this frustrating elephant in the room, (at least there was on her end), and she just didn’t know what to <em>do</em> about it.</p><p>She couldn’t just go and talk to her girlfriend about it, I mean what would she even <em>say</em>, for god’s sake? <em>Maybe</em>, Anthy thought to herself, <em>I could just avoid it forever, and never bring up the topic of marriage from now until I finally get to DIE</em>.</p><p>Yeah, that would work just <em>fine</em>.</p><p>It was all of this, essentially, that brought Anthy Himemiya to where she sat now, hunched over the scratched wood surface of the library’s break room table, doing her best not to lose her <em>shit</em> as she obsessively picked the marshmallows out of a disposable cereal bowl, listening attentively to the older librarian for some sort of advice to make this whole mess of a situation make some goddamn <em>sense</em>.</p><p>“Anthy, dear, are you still with me?” Aiko prodded softly, garnering a quick nod from the girl as she did her best to refocus, now aptly waiting to hear what the woman had to say next.</p><p>“So, I can’t claim to have an answer to all this, but I’ll do my best,” she continued with a sympathetic smile, running a hand through her loosely pulled-back silver hair as she did, “I suppose I could go on some rant about the psychological complexities of this, or the emotional roots of the issue, to which there are clearly <em>quite</em> few, or perhaps an anecdote of some sorts, but it’d all boil down to the same question in the end, wouldn’t it?”</p><p>“What do you mean?” Anthy replied, eyebrows knit as she tried to figure out what the woman meant, the other stifling a soft chuckle behind her hand at this.</p><p>“Don’t you see dear, it really isn’t as difficult of a situation as it seems,” she pushed once again, leaving Anthy just as confused as before. Aiko was trying to go about this socratically, but gave up once she realized that the girl across from her wasn’t quite getting it.</p><p>“I still do not understa—"</p><p>“Why not just propose to her yourself?”</p><p>Anthy stared back at her, unblinking for a moment until it <em>hit her, </em>the girl all but letting out a sigh of relief as the pieces clicked at last. <em>I am <strong>such</strong> an idiot</em>, she thought to herself, the courteous hint of a smile she’d had before breaking into a toothy, genuine grin at the thought.</p><p>
  <em> She’s right. </em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>yes i relate to anthy on a feral level yes this was somewhat a bit of a vent chapter while also serving its main purpose hopefully no im not ok and yes aiko maruyama is the coolest bitch alive anyways i hope you liked this chapter! what may happen next... ~oOoOoOoO~</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>im definitely insecure about writing like real stuff instead of comedy or like quick fluff, so if you liked it please let me know, or drop some kudos, and if you have any constructive criticism or ideas let me know too! i'll try to update this consistently cause BOY do i have ideas and plans ;)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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